“Lie still,” she whispered. “I’m going to fold us to safety, but it will hurt like hell because you’re wounded.”
Diallo merely smiled.
She folded him to the landing platforms at the Militia Warrior HQ. He arrived facedown on the platform, screaming. In addition to the many cuts, it now became apparent that he had broken bones as well. After a few seconds, his back arched and he passed out.
Not long after, probably because of Leto’s advance warning, several healers arrived. They moved Diallo off the platform, but not very far, as they began healing him.
Thorne arrived running up the ramp toward her. He drew her into his arms. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, then looked around. “Where’s Leto?”
“He took Mei-Amadi straight to the hospital from here.”
She could sense that Leto’s arms were wrapped around his stomach and that he was blinking rapidly. Leto, I’m at the landing platform. I’ve got Diallo. He’s alive.
Oh, thank God. I could feel that you had folded and that you had him with you. The breh-hedden is really something, but who the hell is hugging you?
Grace didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The whole situation was so horrible, yet Leto had time to be jealous? Thorne. Just Thorne.
Okay. Sorry about that. Diallo’s wife has been calling for him. What can I tell her?
We got him in time. The healers are with him. He’s really messed up: drained, cut up, some broken bones. I’m going to wait here with Thorne. Come to us when you can.
I’ll come back as soon as Alison gets here, probably just a minute or two.
Okay, that’s good. Is Casimir with you?
There was a slight pause, then He just left. I told him you were with Thorne.
She knew he was angry, and she knew exactly why, so she sent, Leto, you must not fault him for not staying with me. He is your guardian. You know how critical that feels. You’ve served as a Guardian of Ascension in centuries past. You know he did what he had to do.
I know. But I don’t have to like it. I’ll leave here shortly.
She turned to Thorne and told him what she’d seen. “The mist was destroyed and the colonists are being slaughtered. Diallo’s house was crawling with death vampires.”
“We’re getting ready to launch. Donna, who works the grid here at HQ, moved the grid to the colony’s location. Seriffe is with her. He has his eye on everything as well. He sent out a general call for Militia Warriors fifteen minutes ago. We’re assembling the squadrons in the flight hangar now. They’ve already started arriving. A couple dozen squads are just about ready to fold.”
As if his words were magic, the landing platform officer called out, “Incoming. Friendlies.”
More squadrons folded in from all over the Metro Phoenix Two area. By long habit of drilling and preparation, the Thunder God Warriors marched off to the left toward a large departure hangar.
Thorne took her hand. “I want you to see this.”
Grace went with him to the double doors. Within were dozens of tight squads of four, repeated over and over. Wherever a squad awaited one of theirs, the warriors stood grouped at the back. Once a squad had all four members, they moved into position to the fore awaiting orders on several sets of departure platforms.
Thorne leaned close. “We have a reconnaissance team, couched in Endelle’s mist, over the colony right now. We’ll have a report within seconds.”
As if on cue, the large screens came to life and the horror of the attack on the colony caused Grace to list. A moment later, Leto arrived and slid his arm around her waist to support her. “Alison is with Mei-Amadi now. God, I felt you start to fall. What is it?” But his gaze found the screens soon enough, and he murmured, “Creator help us.”
Hundreds of death vampires roamed what had been the fair-like atmosphere of the warrior games. The bodies of several colonists could be seen lying prone on the sawdust, but fewer than Grace had expected. A number of death vamps were using them, going after dying blood. The enemy appeared to be celebrating, gathering around the feeding spots, shouting, raising their fists in the air.
“I thought there would be more casualties,” Grace said.
Leto squeezed her waist. “The colonists are well trained. Remember the drums?”
“Yes. I didn’t know what they were.”
“That was the secondary alarm. Once the electronic alarm failed, the HQ warriors would have started pounding the drums. The death vamps would have had no idea what that was.”
“So you’re saying a lot of the colonists would have gotten away?”
“Yes, as many as heard the drums would have folded to the Portland Colony. We should have a report soon.”
“Thank the Creator for that. Leto, were the drums your idea?”
He nodded. “It seemed like a logical precaution. And something the enemy wouldn’t have expected. I made sure that every colony drilled with drums.”
A voice came over the loudspeaker. “None of the death vampires is watching the skies.” The image on the screen pivoted to what Grace knew to be a position in the west because she’d been there herself earlier in the evening. The voice added, “The landing platforms are clear and unguarded.”
Thorne leaned in her direction. “Gideon has several reconnaissance warriors in flight and cloaked in mist. They’re over the colony now. You’re hearing one of them reporting.”
Grace could make out the flapping of the warrior’s wings, the one who apparently wore the camera strapped to his head. She could also see the fine lace-like appearance of mist surrounding the warrior. None of the death vampires had the power to see the mist or to perceive the Militia Warrior’s flight over the battle site.
She felt heat radiating from Thorne and glanced up at him. He was glowing, his obsidian flame power lighting him up. He looked god-like and in control. He touched his com. “Gideon, start sending the squads.”
Gideon’s voice broke over the heads of the warriors at the lead spots. “On my mark to the Seattle One Colony platforms. I want an eight-squad fold pattern. You know the drill. Get me some blue skin.”
The air in the hanger heated up, now charged with anticipation and intent. The first thirty-two Thunder God Warriors sped to the folding line and simply vanished. The next eight squads were on their heels with only a five-second interval between.
On the screen, the reconnaissance warrior held his camera aimed at the platforms.
“Thorne,” Leto called out. “This is some righteous shit.”
“Yes, it is,” he said.
Grace glanced up at her brother. “You created this, didn’t you?”
Thorne shook his head. “No, this is Seriffe’s work in partnership with Leto. I’d take credit if I could.” As the Militia Warriors continued to fold to Mortal Earth, Thorne turned to Leto. “So how did you save Diallo and his wife? What happened?”
Leto spoke in a clipped manner, as though giving a report to a commanding officer, which Grace supposed was exactly what he was doing. He spoke of death vampires coming to his cabin, which was their first knowledge that the colony was under attack.
Thorne put a hand on Grace’s shoulder and very quietly sent, When Mei-Amadi arrived, we could see that she had been badly used. I’m so sorry.
He was remembering.
It was a long time ago, Thorne.
I know, but I have a feeling it still feels like yesterday for you.
Grace realized she’d never given her brother enough credit. Yes. Sometimes, like tonight, it does.
Leto turned toward Grace. “I have to get out there. My place is at the colony, but I think you should stay here, stay with your brother. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Do you think it’s wise,” she asked, “if you and I are separated right now?”
He took her hand. “I’m not sure, but I have to be part of securing the colony.” He glanced at Thorne. “I think we’ll need Endelle to work on restoring the mist. Diallo won’t be fit for duty
for a few more hours yet, though I made sure Horace was with him.”
“Good,” Thorne said. Horace was the strongest healer on Second Earth. He glanced at Grace then back to Leto. “I’ll take Grace to the palace with me. Endelle will want to know everything, and I’ll get her started on the mist. Just report in as soon as the colony is secured.”
* * *
Casimir stood at the observation window over the portal to Third. It felt so strange being with Grace and Leto just now. He knew they had completed the breh-hedden. He could feel their bond as though it had strings he could touch.
Though she had parted from him, still he loved her. How strange to know she was with another vampire and that his duty was to keep that vampire alive.
After having been with Patience earlier, he wondered if he would scent Grace again, but he had smelled nothing from her.
He glanced around the deck. He sniffed; the wildflower scent that belonged to Patience was still very much present in the space.
He focused on his voyeur window, holding Leto’s image in his mind. He saw the warrior running through the Seattle Colony. Casimir used his window as a tracking device, and since he knew there were death vampires at the colony, he simply folded with a thought to Leto’s position but kept himself invisible.
He watched Leto drop to his knees as he tended to a wounded colonist who was still breathing. He lifted up and called for a healer.
Casimir had enjoyed both men and women in his long life, and Leto was one of the finest-looking warriors he had ever seen. His eyes were an exquisite shade of blue and very intense, a heady combination. He was built, too. He would make a wonderful lover for Grace, for anyone really.
He kept out of the way and just watched him work. His view of life was so different now that what he began to feel for Leto wasn’t so much lust as it was respect. Leto deserved a woman like Grace, whose heart was pure and compassionate, who saw the best in everyone she met.
With a piercing sense of self-awareness, he knew Grace was with the man who deserved her.
He had made a promise to his boys that he would bring Grace back to them, but there had been a part of him still hoping that she would return as his breh. That was now over, especially because Patience had suddenly arrived in his life. Yet deep in his heart, he knew Grace would fulfill her promise to be a part of his sons’ lives. Just knowing that eased his heart.
The healer arrived and began taking care of the colonist. Leto moved on. Remaining invisible, Casimir trailed after him as he worked with three squads of Militia Warriors, hunting deep into the forest for death vampires.
* * *
Endelle stood before the mirror in her bedroom and unhooked the scorpion belt. She let it fall to the floor. She had just gotten word that the Seattle Colony had been attacked and that Seriffe and Thorne were sending her Militia Warriors after Greaves’s death vampires.
She opened her closet door and pulled out a black flight suit, nothing special. She waved a hand and with nine thousand years of experience switched outfits within the blink of an eye. She drew a leather piece from her closet, something she had never worn before, and for the first time in centuries there was absolutely nothing silly or absurd about this garment. She’d had it made about fifteen years ago when Greaves had started turning up the heat. She slid it on the old-fashioned way then buckled the belt in front and adjusted the side fittings. She felt for the dagger at her waist with a left-hand draw. She’d need her right hand for her sword if it came to that.
“You look perfect, Endelle. You were made to wear a weapons harness.”
She turned slowly. Braulio was there, that handsome bastard, standing near her bed. But she’d give him this, he wasn’t sporting his usual teasing come-fuck-me smile.
“I think this might be it,” she said.
Braulio nodded. He looked very serious, more than he ever had.
“So, you gonna tell me what you did to me?” She reached up and rubbed the ripple of scars over her neck.
“Not yet. But soon.”
She didn’t bother to argue. With the war ramping up, nothing else seemed to matter. Besides, Braulio wouldn’t tell her a damn thing until he was ready.
“I’m with you, Endelle,” he said. “I’ll be close by when you need me.”
“Are you talking future stream shit?”
He nodded.
“Fine. Whatever.”
He offered her half a smile, then just vanished.
She headed back to Thorne’s command center since she really wanted to see what was happening in the Seattle Colony.
So Greaves had finally figured out how to locate the hidden colonies. She had a feeling that Nazca and Seattle were just the beginning, and she suspected he meant to move fast. One more flank to cover.
Once at the center, she moved to stand in front of the largest central screen. A few seconds later, Thorne arrived with Grace on his arm. When he reached Endelle, he smiled down at Grace then kissed her on the cheek.
Jesus, he looked so different. He was a new man—but maybe that’s what happened to any man when he got laid on a solid, regular basis. Marguerite was good for him, and so was the breh-hedden.
When Thorne inclined his head to Endelle and took his seat in front of the same screen, Endelle said, “Thought I’d watch the action from here.”
Thorne tapped a few buttons and spoke softly into his com. “Donna, we’re ready to link up.” He waited for a moment. The screen suddenly came alive. “Thanks, we’ve got it.”
He shifted slightly and spoke to Endelle over his shoulder. “Once we had a visual at Apache Junction Two, which started up about ten minutes ago, we gathered two hundred squadrons and began folding them down to Mortal Earth.”
Endelle stood back and watched Thorne work. He was all business these days, more sure of himself, relaxed, willing to take criticism in the name of building a stronger administration and army, and still he battled at the Borderlands a few hours every night. “Just to stay fit,” he’d told her a couple of weeks ago.
She crossed her arms over her chest and took a couple of deep breaths. Her gaze was fixed to the back of his head. Yep, like an amputee watching a limb walk around by itself. She wondered if she’d ever get over the absence of the mind-link she had once shared with him.
Grace moved to stand off to Thorne’s left.
Endelle glanced at her. Grace stared back then sent, They were raping Diallo’s wife when I found her. She’d almost bled out by then.
Shit.
Exactly.
But you brought her out?
Grace nodded.
Endelle narrowed her eyes. How?
The explanation involved Grace’s obsidian power, the same power she’d employed to locate the attack at Nazca.
“Love that you can split into an apparition. Reminds me of my darkening work, although it sounds more powerful and more versatile, like you can go just about anywhere.”
Thorne was tapping away at the computer, and the next moment the screen split into four segments, each a live feed from the in-flight video crews that were flying over the colony.
To her infinite pleasure, the Thunder God Warriors were making mincemeat of a bunch of blue-skinned, black-winged sociopaths.
“Hot damn,” Thorne shouted. The room, which had a dozen techs on different monitors, burst into shouts and applause.
Endelle could see Militia Warriors engaging four-to-one against each death vamp. Militia Warriors were limited in that way—it was the rare warrior who could take on a death vamp by himself. Her Warriors of the Blood were the truly gifted and could battle as many as eight at a time. Luken, the biggest of her warriors, often battled nine or more on a regular basis. He was one fit brute.
But the squads of four Militia Warriors were brilliantly trained and took down the enemy like dominoes falling one after the other.
As new squads peeled off the colony’s landing platform, at least three Section Leaders were directing the action, speaking into their coms
and aiming traffic as needed. Many of the squads headed south into the valley’s grain fields, but more and more of them were sent into the forest. Their activity would be difficult to track, but guerrilla work was part of the training.
“Are you streaming any of this to Marcus?” Endelle asked. “He’ll want to send this out to our allied High Administrators all around the globe.”
“He was my third phone call after you and Seriffe.”
“Good.” Something inside Endelle began to ease. She had hated her break with Thorne when Marguerite entered the picture, but right now she saw the results. Thorne in this position, essentially commanding all aspects of the war against Greaves, was exactly what she had needed.
As for Marcus, who headed up her PR, he would be eating up the videos. Ever since he’d returned from a two-hundred-year vacay on Mortal Earth, he’d been piling the electronics. She now saw one of the results: He could mobilize his PR crews within seconds of any situation. She approved. On the other hand, one of the other results bugged the shit out of her since she now had a website called MadameEndelle.com, and all the other crap that Marcus called “a critical social media platform.” Thanks to a thing called “tweets” that Marcus and his breh, Havily, formulated on her behalf, Endelle was enjoying a surge in popularity.
How fucking precious.
“So what do we think all this means?” Endelle asked.
Thorne turned to meet her gaze. “Besides the obvious?”
“That’s right, besides the fact that Greaves has attacked two of the colonies on Mortal Earth two nights in a row and risked our world becoming known to the human population. Besides all that, what the fuck is the bastard up to?”
But it was Grace who answered. “He’s testing everything without showing his hand on Second Earth: the strength of Diallo’s mist, response time of the Militia Warrior army, what, if anything, obsidian flame would do if he attacks, perhaps even my own power.”
“She’s right,” Thorne said. “This isn’t an overt battle. If Greaves had wanted to do that, he would have launched at Apache Junction Two at any of your allied Territories around the world. But he knows if he does that, he opens the war. He’s not ready yet to go full-out, but I don’t think he’s going to wait very long.”